


You Show Me Yours, I’ll Show You Mine.

by Burningchaos



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/pseuds/Burningchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is injured and Thomas plays doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Show Me Yours, I’ll Show You Mine.

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to [](http://jellybean728.livejournal.com/profile)[ **jellybean728**](http://jellybean728.livejournal.com/) ,[](http://averzierlia.livejournal.com/profile)[ **averzierlia**](http://averzierlia.livejournal.com/)  , and [](http://gategirl7.livejournal.com/profile)[ **gategirl7**](http://gategirl7.livejournal.com/)  for the magnificent beta. All mistakes are my own.

“You’re bleeding on my floor.” Thomas walked out of his bedroom, med kit in hand only to find Harry leaning against the wall right where he’d left him. The pool of blood under his brother’s feet gave him pause.

“Maybe we should call Butters.”

He glared at Thomas, or at least he hoped it was a glare and not the pathetic ‘I feel like I was attacked by a Fae Queen’ look. “Wonderful idea, I should have though to that…oh wait, I did and then you drove right past his office.” He struggled for a moment with his coat before throwing Thomas a filthy look. “Some help would be nice.”

“Come on. Let’s get you into the bathroom first, that way you can bleed out on the tile instead of my rug.” Thomas quickly stripped Harry’s coat off and tossed it toward the couch before moving forward and wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist.

“You know, we need to hang out more when there isn’t blood involved.” Harry tried to laugh but as Thomas maneuvered him onto the sink counter it turned into a groan. He’d faced an army of zombies and hadn’t felt this beat up.

“You should be glad your coat took the worst of this.” Thomas looked at the multiple lacerations. “Empty Night, Harry that thing had tentacles. Tentacles with razor sharp barbs. You’re lucky they weren’t poisoned.” Harry’s thighs were littered with cuts and punctures.

“It looked like a bad Japanese porn flick. I would have been lucky if I dodged them all.” Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against the mirror. He didn’t open his eyes as he felt Thomas slicing open the legs on his jeans. “Also, these were my favorite jeans.”

“That’s because they’re the only pair you own that doesn’t look like you bought them in the 80’s. And I don’t want to know how you know about bad Japanese porn.” He paused as he cut the all the way up to the waist, “Commando?”, and continued cutting them away.

“Laundry week.”

“A whole week now?” Thomas laughed as he reached into his med kit and pulled out everything he needed. He grabbed the bottle of local anesthetic he’d stolen, jabbed a needle into it and filled the syringe. He turned back, and Harry was watching him intently. He offered him a few Percocet and inserted the needle near the two of the worst cuts.

“Your bedside manner blows.” Harry grunted; he hated needles. “Also, ow.” He grimaced and watched his brother thread a needle. “Stitches? Can’t I have steri-stips?” he asked hopefully.

Thomas pulled some of the hair on his legs. “You’re lucky I’m not shaving you, so shut it and let me work.”

“Really, I’m injured and this is how you comfort me?”

“You want comfort call…wait, never mind. Everyone you know would smack you upside the head and do exactly what I am doing. If you’re lucky. Murphy would tell you to quit being a bitch and do this without giving you any drugs as punishment for your terminal stupidity.” Thomas smiled wickedly as he brandished the threaded needle in front of him.

“I’m feeling the love here, really, I am.” Harry flinched as the needle slipped into his skin. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable – the drag and pull, the way the thread slid through his skin. He should be used to this, but he wasn’t. He closed his eyes again, leaned back and tried to think about the pain and not the way his brother was standing between his legs.

Thomas hesitated, then quickly finished stitching up the two gashes and set about cleaning the other minor cuts and gouges. He could feel the tension, the intimacy of the situation and the way his demon was pushing itself forward screaming HURTPREYWANTEATFEEDMINE. He ignored it the way he always did, and concentrated on finishing up as quickly as possible.

Harry flinched when Thomas moved to clean a scratch closer to his groin. He couldn’t think about the pain anymore, not when Thomas’ hands were - “You know, I can clean some of these myself.”

Harry’s voice was low but it still shattered Thomas’ concentration and without thinking, he leaned down and ran his tongue along the scratch. Sweat, blood, antiseptic, and Harry swarmed over his senses. He inhaled deeply, and rubbed his cheek against Harry’s groin. He felt it swell and twitch, he felt Harry’s hand in his hair not pulling him away and not pushing him down – just there and groaned.

“Tell me no,” he urged desperately, his mouth hovering over Harry’s cock as he looked up and watched his brother’s face. “Tell me to stop, that you don’t want me to do this.”

Harry opened his mouth, he wanted to say stop. He wanted to get off the counter and run out the door but he couldn’t. “Please.”

Thomas didn’t hesitate; he dropped to his knees, licked a stripe from Harry’s balls to the crown and swallowed it down. He wrapped his hand around the base and worked his mouth up and down. Harry’s fingers were wrapped tightly in his hair, pulling it just enough to be painful but he didn’t care. He took his free hand, undid his zipper and started stroking his own cock. It didn’t take long, Harry had been celibate entirely too long.

“Thomas,” Harry was trying to pull him back, to warn him but Thomas wanted it all. Before his name had died on Harry’s lips he was swallowing as fast as he could, and spilling over his own hand. He sank back, wiped off his mouth and watched his brother gasp for air. He waited for a moment, grabbed a damp cloth and wiped himself off.

Harry watched him; he opened his mouth and closed it twice before settling on what to say. “So, I guess your bedside manner doesn’t suck as much as I thought.”

Thomas laughed, “Funny, Harry. Funny.”


End file.
